


HOLD MY HAND (I'LL CATCH YOU)

by lingeringflowers



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Disc finale au, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Tantalus, Tommy centric, TommyInnit - Freeform, Tubbo - Freeform, Wing!tommy, alternate ending to the disc war, clingyduo, dream - Freeform, not much tubbo character development in this one mates sorry, theseus - Freeform, they are on top of the mountain for plot purposes fight me, tommy flies! yea!, too many greek references here dont mind me, weird ikr i never write happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:21:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29905860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lingeringflowers/pseuds/lingeringflowers
Summary: What was everything to Tommyinnit? To the hero, to the failure? To the golden boy?What was everything to Tommy, when he is hurtling to his death, his best friend in his arms?(Disc finale war au where Tommy gets wings)
Relationships: TommyInnit & Dream, Tommyinnit & Tubbo, Tubbo & Dream
Comments: 2
Kudos: 97





	HOLD MY HAND (I'LL CATCH YOU)

_ What happens when you don’t get to say goodbye? What happens when you let go? _

_ How do you stop yourself from hurtling at the ground faster than you can even think, how do you stop yourself from dying?  _

_ How do you finish the symphony, suspended in air, no future to look to? _

* * *

  
  


“Dream!”, Tommy’s voice rang out across the cliff, ruffling the meadow. His eyes flashed with anger, his mind electric. He stood, tensed, axe ready at his hip. He only had half a set of armour on, a few gapples, but he didn’t care. It was all or nothing. Tommy would have to make a choice. His prized possessions, his homely music discs, his everything, or Tubbo,  _ his everything. _ He gasped for breath, the sharp cold winds gutting across the sheer mountaintop. 

The cold masked man stood no less than fifteen feet away, maybe ten. He stood, almost lazily, enjoying the action with a smirk of victory on his lips. They opened, saying, “Tommy! I’ve given you enough time. I’m done waiting. Either Tubbo dies, or you give me the discs.”

Tommy’s breaths came in fast and short. He caught Tubbo’s gaze, filled with fear, forced to stand behind Dream, too close to the edge, too close to death.  _ Tubbo. _ He had to protect him at all costs. He couldn't- he couldn’t lose him, he couldn’t let Dream take him after Dream had taken everything else from Tommy.

Dream laughed but it held no humour. “Tommy. I’m not playing around.” His mask was blinding, sending icy daggers into Tomm’s heart. “The discs, or Tubbo.” His hold on Tubbo tightened, one hand wrapped around his shoulder, the other around his sword. 

Tommy couldn’t breathe. It was an easy decision.  _ How could he be so stupid?  _ How had Tommy let the worth of two plastic music discs outweigh the life of his best friend? Tommy  _ had  _ been selfish, for it was his fault they were in this situation. It was his fault Tubbo was practically being dangled over the edge of the tallest mountain in the world. 

“Tommy.”

This time it was Tubbo speaking, sounding hoarse with fear. He steadied himself under Dream’s hold. “Tommy, get the discs, okay?”

_ What? _

“I’ve done enough! This is it, this is the end. It's time for me to let go, Tommy. Take the discs, you deserve them,” Tubbo cried. Tears drew tracks over his scarred face but he smiled at Tommy nonetheless. 

“ _ No,”  _ Tommy choked out. He stumbled forwards, reaching for Tubbo. “I don’t care about the discs! Not like I care about you! Tubbo, I  _ need  _ you!”

His outstretched hands caught empty air, but his blue eyes locked with honey brown ones.  _ They were going to make it out of here alive. _ Dream would have the discs, sure. But Tubbo was the only melody Tommy needed. 

Dream’s sharp voice made Tommy stop in his tracks. “Oh,  _ how sweet _ ,” He mocked. “You don’t get it, Tommy. You. Are. Powerless!” 

Tommy was frozen. He  _ hated _ that voice, telling him he wasn’t worth it, wasn’t deserving. Tommy’s eyes were still locked onto Tubbo’s, a silent agreement passing between the two of them.  _ They were going to make it out of here alive. They had to. _

__ Dream’s steel grip tightened on Tubbo, a silent threat. “Give me the discs Tommy.”

“Give me Tubbo first,” He challenged, turning to face Dream. 

Dream sighed dramatically. “I’m not playing FUCKING GAMES, TOMMY. Hand over the discs,  _ now _ , or Tubbo dies.” He lifted his netherite sword to Tubbo’s neck. Tubbo stiffened, terror written on his face. 

Tommy had no choice. He carefully opened the ender chest located a few feet away, and extracted his most prized possessions. He studied them for a moment, wondering if they were truly worth all he had been through. Tommy walked back over to Dream, hands shaking, holding the key to his and Tubbo’s safety.  _ Almost there. _ They were almost free. Tommy briefly fantasized about running away, far away from everyone else, and building an oasis with Tubbo where no one could bother them. As he locked eyes with his enemy, Tommy knew what he had to do. There was no scamming this time. No tricks, no lies that could give Tommy everything he wanted. But  _ everything _ was subjective. Tommy’s  _ everything _ used to be the cold plastic discs in his hand. Now, now it was the chestnut haired boy who’s life was in his hands. 

“Take them Dream,” and Tommy offered up the last of his innocence. His unfinished melody. 

Dream lowered the sword from Tubbo’s neck and placed the discs in his own ender chest. Tommy, broken-hearted, breathed a sigh of relief. He just had to get to Tubbo-

Dream threw back his head, and began to laugh. “Tommy.” He advanced on them. “Did you really think I would let you  _ win?” _

Tommy stiffened, meeting Tubbo’s eyes, equally filled with fear. If only he could just get to Tubbo, just hug him close.

Dream closed the distance and stepped between them. “You know, I have to thank you, Tommy. For the discs, but also… for bringing attachment to the server. Before you, people didn’t get attached to things. But you, you showed me that the best way to control someone is to threaten what, or  _ who _ they love! But Tommy, you thought you could outplay me once again. You gave up your discs, but that isn’t the thing you care about most, is it?” Dream’s voice was nothing but malice, and swiftly turned to Tubbo. “It's this guy! Tubbo! Your  _ right hand man _ . So, Tommy. Thanks for the discs, but I can’t let you leave. Because I want power, and the only way to get it, the only way to control you, is to eliminate your attachment.  _ Say your goodbyes.” _ Dream finished, his words striking Tommy in the chest.

_ No. _ He was supposed to have won. He was supposed to be safe, Tubbo in his arms. They could start running away, planning a house, sitting in flower fields-

Tommy looked at Tubbo with fear-filled eyes. He didn’t know how to get out of this one. He didn’t have a backup plan this time. He had done the right thing, right? He had given up his discs. So why wasn’t Tubbo returned to him? Why wasn’t he in his arms? Why was he standing, teetering on the edge of a thousand foot drop, held by the man who had ruined them? 

The wind weaved through the golden field that led directly off the cliff in a sheer drop. For just a moment, the air stilled. Icy blue eyes connected with swirling honey ones. Promises were made. Hearts broken. Two boys, put through the unimaginable, accepting their deaths. Tommy held his breath, and it seemed like the rest of the world did too. The silence was deafening- and then everything plunged into chaos. 

Several things happened at once. Tommy’s feet, pounding against the dirt, racing to Tubbo. Dream, a wicked smile donning his features, advancing towards Tubbo too. Tubbo, stood on the precipice between life and death, left defenseless. 

Dream reached Tubbo before Tommy could. Tommy watched, horrified, as his enemy flung his best friend over the edge. 

_ “NO!”  _ A scream was ripped from his throat. But Tommy kept running.  _ He couldn’t save him, he couldn’t save him in time, there wasn’t enough time, there was never enough time. _

__ Without hesitation, and to Dream’s surprise, Tommy took flight.

His shoes kissed the ground in a final embrace with the earth, and then he was airborne. For a fleeting moment, it was blissful. And then he was falling, he was  _ screaming _ , he was falling and he had no way of stopping. He slammed into something solid, that being Tubbo. They grasped onto each other as the whole world slid out from underneath them. Two boys fought valiantly, losing their final battle. The edge was their demise, and they had fallen down. But as they fell, as Tommy clutched Tubbo tightly, determined to never let go, he held a moment of clarity in his mind’s eye.

  
  


_ Everything. _

Tommy had stared death in the face twice before. Twice before he had refused, defiant. And even as he plummeted down to where the sun couldn’t reach, he smiled. Because he remembered  _ everything. _ All the events, all his memories intertwined, flashing before him one last time. He remembered his first visit to the lands of the smp. How he had antagonized George and started the beginning skirmishes with Dream that would later bring unimaginable war. He remembered Tubbo joining not long after, bringing laughter and mischief along with him. He remembered two shiny discs, as simple as they were, holding the key to the universe. They sang for him when he was silent. They placed warmth in his chest when he felt like ice. They were the melody keeping him going. They were forever unfinished. He remembered sitting on the bench with Tubbo as the discs filled the air and how he thought nothing else could go wrong. And then he remembered losing Tubbo to flashes of flame and fireworks and screaming. He remembered loss. He remembered Wilbur,  _ oh how he remembered Wilbur.  _ Wilbur’s voice, filling him with hope and pride of a new nation. Wilbur’s voice, urging him that things would work out in their favour. Wilbur’s voice, steely with lies, whispering,  _ let’s be the bad guys. _ Wilbur’s voice trapping him in the ravine, unable to escape the madness. He remembered  _ Chekov’s fucking gun  _ and the threats of  _ eleven and half stacks of TNT. _ Tommy remembered placing his blind trust in the man he thought to be a brother. He remembered facing the axe of Dream, not for the first time. And then he remembered freedom, for as short-lived as it was. Not long after came the explosions, one after another, and watching a man he trusted stab the one he called  _ brother.  _ The few simple seconds when he had hugged Tubbo, passing on the presidency, holding him tight thanking the gods they were both still alive. He remembered thinking  _ how were they both still alive.  _ How the creation of their  _ special place  _ seemed to finally, at last, live up to its glory. Yet even then, they still didn’t have  _ everything. _ Everything was unattainable, just out of Tommy’s grasp. Tommy was Tantalus, grasping for the fruits of his labor, only to be dragged down by the water. And Tommy was Theseus, as told by Technoblade himself.  _ Techno. _ Enemy.  _ Friend.  _ Leader.  _ Betrayer. _ Tommy remembered staring Technoblade in the face point-blank as he raised the trigger and shot words of fear and death into Tommy’s heart. _ Let me tell you a story, Tommy.  _ He remembered those words sliding down his back like ice as they leapt from the mouth of a traitor. Tommy remembered being called a hero. He’s never felt like one. But Tommy was Theseus, it was written in the stars. And like Theseus, Tommy remembered exile all too well. He remembered betrayal from the one he had called a friend. The one he was always destined to save. He remembered slithery sentences from Dream locking his mind up in a prison. He remembered explosions and ringing and silence. He remembered drowning. He remembered the depths of the nether, beckoning him with the cold vice of death. He remembered almost giving up. But it was never Tommy’s time to die, right? That was never his destiny. So he had found The Blade, and lost his sanity. He had surfaced from months of isolation, unscathed save for his mind. Tommy  _ remembered Dream. _ His taunts, and then excuses. His lame attempts at friendship. His puppet strings, so clearly tying Tommy back to Tubbo. Tommy remembered words. Words of fear and anger and betrayal as the whole of the smp watched the two former friends fight in a collapsed house. All Tommy had ever felt was betrayal. Time and time again, stabbed in the back by people he chose to trust. Because it was always his fault, right? Tommy, a child, sacrificing  _ everything _ again and again and again. When was it enough? Because there was no  _ everything _ , to Tommy anymore. He never looked to the future, to what could be. Only to the past, what could’ve been. Tommy had tunnel vision, prioritizing the discs and Tubbo, together. Tommy remembered forgiveness. The duo, forced through months of suffering and heartbreak and separation, finally united. Tommy remembered fear. Fear of losing Tubbo. Fear of losing to Dream. Fear of death itself. And now here they were, plummeting to where the sun couldn’t shine, arms wrapped around each other in a final goodbye.

Tommy had stared death in the face twice before.  _ It was never meant to be _ echoed in his head as everything around him exploded into black dust.  _ Ten paces, fire _ screamed at him over the thump of his heart as he raised his bow at the sky above his smiling enemy. Both times he hadn’t gone without a fight, because that’s who Tommy was. But now, now,  _ after everything,  _ it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. He had jumped, and like Icarus, would fall. 

They fell slowly, almost floating like birds, new to flight. Or perhaps Tommy’s perception of time had slowed. Every breath seemed to take minutes, his whole body heaving. He clutched onto Tubbo with white knuckles, terrified to let him go. Of course, he wasn’t stupid. Although his eyes were closed, he perfectly imagined the glinting meadow spread out below them, perhaps a bubbling creek winding through the tall grasses. They would hit the ground, the breath leaving their body in an instant, all consciousness gone without a trace. They would die amongst the poppies and golden wheat. The color would fade from their eyes, taking their childhoods with it. Dream would win. Tommy and Tubbo would lose. But even so, even as he fell to his death, he accepted it. Tommy knew that  _ this was it _ , that every last finale preceding this one they had beat against the odds, but this victory would fall to the man with the mask, the puppeteer, the god. And as Tommy clutched his best friend in his arms, determined to hold him until they took their very last breath, he knew that he hadn’t lost  _ everything. _ He never would lose everything, for his legacy would be carried on in the wooden steps of the prime path, in the rocky cobblestone towers, in the unsung melody of stories to come. Tommy was a hero, and he was going to die. Tommy was going to die, but his story, his tale never would.

The sun beat down on the two boy’s backs as they fell. Horizons slipped by them while they flipped through the air, spinning in circles. Tommy cracked one eye open, immediately regretting it. The blurry landscape below them did not bode well for a measly chance at survival. He glanced at Tubbo’s scrunched up expression, pulling the boy in even tighter. 

“Why did you jump, Tommy?” Tubbo’s voice was barely a whisper over the whistling wind.

“For you,” he answered. It was true. Tommy couldn’t bear to live in a world that didn’t also have Tubbo. He didn’t care if it made him clingy, because Tubbo was part of his  _ everything.  _ And so even though it was stupid, even though it wouldn’t save him, Tommy had jumped. Even though it secured both of their deaths and Dreams ultimate victory, Tommy had flown too close to the sun. It would all be worth it if he could die with Tubbo in his arms. 

Tommy thought about this as they hurtled to the ground, faster than he could fathom. He hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much. He hoped his blood wouldn’t mix too much with the red of the poppies. He hoped he could at least cushion Tubbo’s fall. 

Tommy thought about how he had never felt good enough. A disappointment, an insolent child. Selfish. A hero. Pathetic.  _ No son of mine _ .

Phil. Phil with his larger-than life crow black wings that used to envelope Tommy in a warm hug. Phil with his sparkling blue eyes and shit-eating grin. Phil, never the dad Tommy needed. But what did it matter now? What did it matter than Tommy had always been jealous of the wings lifting Phil into the air with ease? After all, he was about to be flattened against the dirt. Wings were nothing but a child’s dream now.

And yet, as he fell, he wished for them. He wished for red feathers to sprout from his back and carry him and Tubbo far away from this place. He wished to feel the wind in his hair as he flew,  _ really  _ flew. Tommy wanted to fly. 

And so he did. He hadn’t a clue where they came from, but they were there.  _ Wings. _ Tommy stared in disbelief, craning his neck over his shoulder. 

“Tommy? Are those…” he trailed off, staring in awe at the bird feathers.

They were truly a sight to see, falling thousands of feet to their death. Golden and red interwoven like thread to make shimmering feathers. They weren’t as large as Phil’s, but they were  _ his _ , Tommy thought. And that was all that mattered.

Tommy looked at Tubbo, grinning joyously. 

_ “I can fly.”  _

And fly he did. 

Tommy flapped his wings once, then twice, beginning to gain momentum and air flow. Soon they were gliding, rather than falling. Tommy could breathe again. What had been a treacherous cliffside turned into a beautiful scene of lush rocky outcroppings and swaths of flower fields. And through it all, Tommy held tight onto Tubbo. 

He was flying, and they were alive. He was flying, and they had won. It didn’t matter that Dream had the discs, not really. What mattered was Tubbo, and now… flying. There was nothing better than this. 

_ Everything. _

What was that, anyway, to a golden flying boy and his best friend?

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hi! ty for reading! i hope you enjoyed bc im actually proud of this one :D


End file.
